Criminally Masochistic
by AlbinoF0x
Summary: Harry Potter of the CIA is hot on the case of a sick sadistic woman who has been murdering businessmen all about LA. But what will hapen when he discovers that the Perp isnt really a woman, but his own Cheif in command, the charming but stern Tom Riddle; and when that man decides that Harry is his next sexual victem? bdsm slash NC17 TR/HP char-death
1. Prologue: the dream

Right so this is an attempt at a three shot...plus a prologue, which is this chapter.

so heres the disclaimer

THIS IS A SADOMASOCHISM TALE! HIGHLY GRAPHIC SCENES OF BONDAGE, HUMILIATION AND PUNISHMENT, ELECTROSTIMULATION, BLOODPLAY AND GURO WILL BE THE MAIN POINT OF THIS STORY. BE WARNED!

so yeah...too cranky to make a decent intro. so just read the fucking prologue. nag nag nag, rant rant rant, further crabby comments.

XDDD enjoy.

*note* in the first part of this story "It" refers to harry. "Him" and Master" is a bit self explanitory.

* * *

_It could hardly move, but It could see Him grinning like the demon he was from across the bed, before It crashed onto the floor in a trembling heap. He'd kicked It off the edge. More than likely, he'd been staring at It for hours. He was strange like that, terrifying; with those strange pit-like eyes of his that looked almost red in the dim light of the room. _

_It did It's best to collect Itself before He got to his feet. It's eyes cast down (not that it was necessary; it's hair, dark as it was, hid It's eyes well enough under the fringe it made when It's head was bowed) It waited for Him to relieve himself for the morning. It had done well last night, so he would be pissing in the toilet, rather than over It…or inside It; a reward for It's compliance, for It's screaming, begging. _

_As soon as It dared to breathe, It caught the scent of coffee, eggs and bacon; breakfast cooked by His new submissive. It sneered in disgust. That disgusting blonde fop had no place at the Master's feet. No obedience, crying out his "safe word" far too quickly. He was defeating his own purpose by even having one. He wouldn't last long. It was Master's favorite. Why else would He have relinquished It of It's name? Why else would he have chipped and collared It?_

_It was roused from It's musings by a caress to the top of It's head. It looked up to see Master leering down in a way that made It shiver._

"_Does It wish to eat with It's Master?" It nodded in reply, nuzzling the hand that reached down to pinch It's cheek until the flesh reddened and stung. "Come along then. Mustn't keep Draco waiting." It growled in reply, not daring to speak It's disapproval, which earned a chuckle from the Brunette who walked ahead. "None of that, now. I am sure in time he will break." It scoffed mentally and followed after Masters feet as His toes curled into the soft shag carpet. Master had installed it only three weeks ago for It's comfort when It slept on the floor. He was so Kind._

_As It took It's place at Master's feet, It lifted It's chin high, flaunting It's collar and the many marks over It's body from last nights ministrations for the Submissive to see and gurn green with envy over, for what else would that bitch do when he saw how pleased Master was with It? And As master was presented with his breakfast and morning paper by the Blonde, It grinned inwardly to Itself as a small, yet diabolical plan formed in It's mind._

_Draco bit his lip and poured milk in the already somewhat filled saucer for the Slave at Master's feet. He couldn't help but sneer at It, somewhat disgusted, somewhat jealous of its perfect posture and complete subservience to the Master. It grinned back maliciously at him and turned away, nuzzling the Master's leg. Yes, yes, Master owned only It. And if It had any choice in the matter, it would remain that way. Of course It didn't, but a little playful manipulation was harmless…right? It waited for the Sub to bring over It's morning gift. It didn't know how long it took Master to make it, even if most of it was just milk. If He wasn't such a heavy cum, It wouldn't receive the treat at all. The privilege to ingest Masters mighty seed was most precious. Ah but here came the bitch, and It readjusted It's legs at just the right moment. Dracos foot caught on It's leg and sent him reeling forward with a squeak of terror as It reached out gracefully and caught It's breakfast and set it on the floor demurely. Master was most likely ignoring the interaction. He usually didn't mind when the Sub's were Hazed by It. The competition was good for them He always said. Draco growled and opened his mouth to retort as Masters voice rang out clearly through the room._

"_Be grateful It bothered to catch It's breakfast Draco." Fire flashed in the Sub's eyes and he growled, glaring at It. "I doubt you have acquired the proper palette to scrape it from the carpet with your tongue should it have spilled." Master patted It's head as He turned back to his paper. "Hn…What would It do if Master were to have Draco clean up the mess?" It's throat rumbled as It smirked at the disheveled boy._

"_It would ask Master's permission to punish the Submissive for stealing It's breakfast."_

"_Good answer." It felt master's hand lift It's chin and It beamed up at Him, It's startling emerald eyes glimmering with affection as It was lifted into a passionate, dominating kiss. The last coherent thought It had before focusing completely on master was the fury that raged in the Submissives face, and the warm glee that It felt to see that._

_Hard lips found It's own and toungs clashed, his member already hard, _

BRRRRRRRRRRR…

_and now throbbing painfully around the bite mark along the underside ground against his masters…_

RRRRRRRRRRRR…

_His? No…no It's…yeah…wait…no…Harry…not it…fuck fuck he was loosing that feeling…_

RRRRRRRRRRRR…

_Keep concentrating…you have a job to do, please Him…must fo-JOB…WORK!_

Harry all but leaped out of bed in a frenzy, smashed his palm on the alarm clock and jumped into the shower, uncairing what temperature it would be when turned on. He was already late for work...

Harry Potter blinked groggily as he lifted the mug to his lips with shakey hands. The dark circles under his eyes gave his normally lively face a sunken appearance. He was exhausted, and Ron could see that clearly as the cloudless summer sky outside the office. He had been concerned about his Partner for quite some time. Ever since they had been assigned That Case, Harry had not been himself. Or rather, since he had seen the photos of the mangled victems.

Ron himself had been torn up for a few days as he allowed the boil of horror to rise and burst. He had not by any means disassociated the victems, but he had let the reality sink in and the anger to morph into determination. He was surprised to see how the young men, burned and battered before death by that sick, sadistic bitch had affected Harry, though. And badly. He had never seen his best friend like this, barely awake, jumpy and quick to get defensive. Almost as if he was hiding something. A sliver of suspicion had entered his mind when it had all started, but he mentally slapped himself for even considering him a suspect because of his empathy for them. He was a sensitive guy, but it was rare that Harry ever let someone see, even Ron forgot sometimes, and was surprised to see it at work of all places.

"You should take the day off, Harry" he set a hand on the man's shoulder, who flinched visibly.

"No. I'll be fine." Harry's voice was rough and sandy…had he been screaming lately? He vaguely remembered harry being a vocal sleeper in college. The two had been roommates. "Just gotta wake up."

Ron shrugged, not really wanting to give up, but not wanting to get the guy angry, and Harry was prone to mood swings when on a case that lasted this long unsolved; and walked away.

Harry sighed and arched his neck, running a hand through his thick mess of hair. He knew what ron was thinking. He had made sure that his friend developed that image of him. But what surprised him was how close to the mark Ron probably was. Ron most likely thought he was taking it too hard because of his own past encounter with Sadomasochism.

How would he react if he knew that every time he saw those photos…and saw himself in their place…his dick would start to throb against his leg?

* * *

i am aware it needs a bit of beta-ing. gimme a lil bit. i have the whole thing typed up, so the next update should be either tomorrow or the next date, along with the edited version of this.


	2. Riddle me this

too lazy to make proper intro. this is the first chapter, so its basically bluiding up to the good part, but i put a few pervy tidbits just for shits and giggles.

this is NC 17. just lettin ya know.

* * *

How _would_ his friend react if he knew that that brush with the BDSM underground was, in actuality, nowhere near traumatizing at all? That he had relished in that year as a submissive to his striking, charismatic godfather. He mused silently to himself and lifted his coffee to his lips, ignoring the strange way the hair on the back of his neck bristled. The murder had not "released" him…it had destroyed him. His beautiful, loving Master just lying there in a mass of his own entrai-

"You look like shit Harry." Harry coughed and sputtered as the hot beverage decided to make a trip up his nose. A hand slapped the center of his back as the deep chuckle of his boss resounded behind him. How long had Riddle been standing there?! No wonder he'd gotten the chills. Bastard always made him feel like meat in a butchers window, the way Tom's stare bored into him whenever they were in the same room; not that he minded. Although Tom Riddle was nearly sixty, he easily and expertly passed as a man in his late thirties or early forties, with only a smattering of grey over his ears and a hint of crows feet. He had an air of dignified authority, and a stern but not quite gruff attitude that made the women, old and young absolutely swoon. Man was a god in human form and he didn't even realize it.

Harry glared with playful venom as soon as he'd caught his breath, inwardly groaning when Tom leaned one hand on the Table and placed a fist on his hip as he leaned forward. How the older man managed to look so casual and youthful when he was old enough to be his father was beyond him. Harry had his fair share of fantasies about just that.

"Did you have to sneak up on me, ya' prick!?" Tom mock sneered right back at him and snatched up Harry's coffee, helping himself to it.

"That's 'Mr. Prick' to you, little man." His eyes grinned over the rim of the mug, treating himself to an actual expression before he set it down and swallowed, lips firmly set back in place in their usual frown. "Always have to keep my team on their toes. And you, my friend, have been like a zombie these last few weeks. What's going on with you?"

"Just a bit overwhelmed." Riddle rolled his eyes and brought his hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose, watching as Harry stood and loosened his tie, not so cleverly avoiding a real answer, and made to leave. He had to analyze the latest note left by the Perp. As the Handwriting Analysis expert on the team, he had his work cut out for him, especially since the notes were written in blood on the wall. Made it harder to recognize the patterns and kept him up at all teeth grinding hours of the night. He was glad that the young man could never figure out who draped that blanket over him whenever he fell asleep at his desk. No need to make him uncomfortable.

"Look, Harry." He took the crook of the man's arm in his hand, receiving a scathing, but exhausted gaze.

"Please, Sir." Tom almost flinched. That was Harry's way of telling someone above him to "fuck off". He was that on edge? Perhaps it would be better to speed up the process on this case himself. He couldn't stand to see Harry suffering so. It was the same with everyone on his team, really. He disliked seeing his colleagues overworked to the point of what was clearly insomnia. "We both have work to do."

Yes. Tom decided as Harry wrenched out of his grip and out the door. He would have to move quickly. He needed Harry in top physical form for the unavoidable result of this particular assignment. He rubbed a hand down over his mouth to hide yet another grin, this one much less…congenial. His dark eyes glinted as he thought to himself, and his tongue darted out to lick his thumb, a purr resounding through the otherwise empty room.

* * *

"So as you can see, the curvature of the 'Y' and the 'G' in this particular message is much more elongated, almost carefree; in comparison to this latest photograph" Harry meshed the two images together on his computer, as the projector showed the same to his audience. They watched with rapt attention, some taking notes, while others simply nodded and scowled in their own way. He walked to the screen and lifted a hand, directing their attention to the photo taken from the latest crime scene. "This photograph was taken less than three hours ago. As you can see, just like always, it's completely free of useable prints, but right here." He zoomed in on the several small marks near the message which read 'And He stretched out his hand, and there was darkness throughout the land of Egypt', "Several smears were made, indicating her carelessness. She has been growing cocky." He scrolled down and circled the italic 'He' and continued. "But her still perfect grammar indicated that she is still in control, but rules out what we thought could have been OCD."

"So, what?" A man harry rather disliked commented, once again, out of turn, in his usual snide, condescending voice. "The bitch scribbles a bit more than usual, makes another pointless biblical reference and decides not to make it look pretty for us…and that means that she's not as much of a psychotic maniac as we thought?" A few chuckles followed his gripe. "Real charmer isn't she?" Harry held back a scowl and flicked the lights back on.

"As always, Mr. Snape is full of astute observations." He bit his tongue a bit harder before continuing. "In a sense that is exactly what we have found. She is still a serial killer psychologically, but she may be a bit less anal than we predicted. Which is good news for us, especially with the relaxed state she's gotten herself in." He hit the delete key on his laptop and the program closed. "She will be easier for us to catch than we h-

Blip!

A message popped up onto the computer screen red letters blinking at him. "Want to see the latest bleeder, Mr. Detective?" Harrys pupils shrank as he stared down at it, his ears starting to ring. Was this some sort of a joke? Was this even possible? If so…how would the woman have gotten a hold of his email address?

"Sir?" Harry's eyes never left the screen as he slowly leaned over the desk. Mr. Malfoy, the senior director's assigned intern, made toward him in concern. "Mr. Potter are you alright?" Harrys voice was soft, controlled and monotone as he responded.

"Yes…I need a moment. Something has recently come to me." He looked up, hoping his quickly rising panic was well hidden. "All of you are dismissed." He turned to Scorpios, not bothering to mask himself.

"Make sure Tom and my enforcers know I will be taking the afternoon off." Scorpios took a step back at the worry in Harrys eyes.

"Sir, are you sure you are alri-"

"NOW!" Harry roared at him, hoping the little shit would get the message. As the intern scrambled out with a squeak of panic, Harry collapsed into his seat and opened the message, half dreading what he would find. Why had she sent him the e-mail? Were there truly photos inside? Did…could she possibly know? There was no way. He was sure of it. But if this was really from the woman there was a good chance that she was a part of the team. He hated to even imagine Hermione or Ginny being this awful wretch. That left Luna and Cho. But it made no sense…even them. How would they even begin to guess?

The screen blipped once more and Harry sucked in a breath as he found himself face to face with another letter, this time in handwriting, on paper, that alternated between cursive, freehand and futhark style runes.

"She knows I'm a linguist…" he murmured as he began to read under his breath. _'Mr. Potter, I cordially invite you to meet me on neutral and non-hostile terms in the parking garage at 13th and Jackson. I have observed your unfortunate fatigue concerning the notes I have left behind and wish to apologize in person. You know by now that I am a being of honor. You may come armed with whatever you wish, but know that I will not._

_'Really, I feel as if we are kindred spirits. You know so much about me, and I about you. I you're your health suffers endlessly for my lovers. My desire to show you that they truly don't deserve that pity has grown day by day. If you have it in that bleeding heart of yours to ease me of my concern, meet me there in one hour.'_

Harry huffed as he realized he had been biting the knuckle of his forefinger hard enough to make an imprint and leaned back in his chair. It was insane, even considering it. There was no way he could bring himself to make such a confrontation. He knew he should turn this in to Tom and alert his team of this new bit.

Even as he glanced at the time on the bottom right corner of the screen, then shifting his gaze to the location; he knew it would be a mistake. Even as he slammed his computer shut and dashed out the door; he knew it was probably a trap. Even as he slammed his foot on the accelerator of his car and sped out onto the expressway ; he was sure he would underestimate her, and ultimately become her next "bleeder" as she normally referred to her victimized lovers.

It never crossed his mind that perhaps this was precisely what he _wanted_ to happen.

* * *

He reached the entrance to the parking garage, which he noticed was for the local Horror/ Thriller Cinema, a short bit before seven o clock. He had made sure to come early. He knew she was probably already here to begin with, but just in case he could get here first, have the upper hand. She had said she wouldn't be armed, but despite her "honor" he was not willing to take her word for it. He parked beside a large van, making sure the space on the driver's side of his Echo was open, a place to avoid gunshot, and an easy access to his getaway, should things turn ugly as they most likely would.

The purr of the engine came to a stop and he took a moment to calm his breathing, which had become erratic. He had long gotten used to being appalled with himself. The entire drive, his mind had been rushing with mental imagery of what she may do to him should she manage to incapacitate him. The photos ran though his head like a stampede until he had been forced to pull to the side of the road and give himself release. His orgasm had been so intense it had him panting, forehead against his steering wheel as perspiration dripped from his hair, and tears from his eyes. But the shame was part of what made it all so delicious. He knew he was a sick son of a bitch, but that didn't stop him from already needing a second round by the time he had put the emergency brake in gear, stepped out of the car, and pocketed his keys.

Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he decided to take a moment so just calm his dick down. He couldn't protect himself if it hurt to move. He walked in between his car and the van making sure to keep himself alert, unzipped and grasped his cock with a shallow gasp. It only took him three purposefully painful jerks to his length before he spilled out onto the concrete, legs trembling as he sighed with relief. He wiped his soiled hand on the van, mentally apologizing to its owner and tucked himself back in before straightening up and running a hand through his hair, combing it out of his eyes, not quite registering a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, just before a deep, raspy voice purred directly into his ear.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to see that." Harry's breath caught in his throat and upon instinct he placed a hand on the barrel of the pistol at his hip as he spun around. But before he could even register whom was reaching out at his face, his hair war seized violently and his forehead was smashed against the hood of the Echo sending him into unconsciousness. A hand reached down and checked his pulse as the figure knelt down, a smile playing on his lips. Black eyes glimmered, giving off a unique dark red shine in the dim light and Harry was disarmed, lifted into the van, and locked in. As the Vehicle made its way out of the parking space, a rusty red writing became visible on the concrete floor.

"Solve the _Riddle_."

* * *

ay ay ay! did ya figure it out? XD holy crap i'm having a lot more fun writing this than almost anything else ever.

confession, this is practice for a longer version that will eventually (hopefully) be publishable. But thats a long time from now, so lets just focus on this chapter for now. any questions? put it in the reviews. :D

The short chapters are over. the next two will be at least ten pages each. again, im already done writing. but i may add a bit here or there to improve. next one should be up by Tuesday. I'm taking a short trip to Michigan City over the weekend.

Flames are what i like to screw into the matress. So please dont make me fuck an internet page, that would hurt once i figured out how to do it.


	3. What we all want

I escapologist for the extra 12 hour wait. Maintinence (as many of you probably noticed) made updating impossible.

and the word right there is supposed to be "apologize" but apparently this computers auto spell is as bad as autocorrect on smartphones. ive been keyboard raped.

Yeah baby, just like that.

XD Well Here you go. Chapter two which i ran through tornado warnings and pouring rain to get to you. (im actually being serious about that. but i actually like walking in the rain ever since playing donnie in SITR in high school...useless information...sorry. read on XD)

* * *

Harrys head swam with vertigo as he attempted to open his eyes. He could feel his eyelids close and shut, but somehow try as he might, he couldn't see much. The side of his skull ached terribly though. Shit what did he do last night? Did he get drunk again? Ron was always taking him and Hermione out to smash up at the strippers club. His thoughts trailed out a moment, remembering his reaction when they had first invited her and she had practically drooled all over the exotic dancers, forking out some major cash until at least four or five of them were draped over her, ignoring the men.

This thought cleared his head a bit as the spinning began to somewhat subside. Why couldn't he see? He tried to calculate through the fog but every time his thoughts became mildly coherent he lost his focus, and the throbbing and spinning would speed back up.

He hadn't a clue as to how long he'd been lying here. Other than the bodily discomfort, he actually was feeling rather…nice. Floaty even. The bed, he was sure it was a bed, was so cushy and warm he found himself snuggling his whole body into it. He could feel something hard and cold around his wrists, which seemed to be above his head. How interesting…odd, but interesting. But not so much as the cushy soft bed he was in, which managed to destract him completely from the vertigo…or , no…actually that was gone. So was his headache. Well that was good. Now he could swim around in this fluffy pool properly. If only his neck would stop prickling like that…

"You seem to be quite comfortable." A somewhat distorted voice echoed through his eardrums, and Harry turned his head slowly to face its direction. Sounded like a man. Cool. Guess what? He was a man too! Go figure.

"yemnhgh." Harry inwardly pouted. Why was there something in his mouth? He couldn't respond properly. Why would he have put something in his own mouth? That made no sense at all! Well unless he planned to eat hit. But it was too large to even chew. Why did he do such ridiculous things? Or…was it that man? Just his luck, a retard had stuffed something in his mouth that he couldn't eat. What a dumb ass.

"May I remove your gag?" something along the lines of recognition pinged in harrys mind. Right…gags. Sirius used to put gags in his mouth all the time. But that still confused him. How could Sirius be here? He was…no! Don't think about that. "Or will you scream?" Harry shook his head, otherwise still as stone. He was too comfortable to move much anyhow. And somehow he felt as if this had happened before, not too long ago.

"Good boy." Harry first felt the wad of whatever it was leave his mouth and he suddenly realized how uncomfortable it had been. His breathing came a bit easier now, and the hint of nausea was now gone. The faint ache of hunger became a tad more obvious, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. The tingling of his cheek where a hand had caressed him was so pleasant. "now open your mouth…" Harry obeyed, the routine of some immeasurable amount of time coming back to the forefront of his mind with the promise of sustenance. Warm liquid was spooned over his tongue and down his throat; robust and tangy, and tasting of poultry, he was just barely able to deduce that he was being fed chicken broth. It was good, not too strong but still giving him a pleasing glow that spread through his whole body. As he swallowed and swallowed a slightly coppery scent came to him. "Blood" his mind said. But why would he smell blood? Another spoonful and the thought left him. His mind was fogging up again, and he gradually allowed himself to fall back to sleep.

* * *

It was nearly midnight. Tom Riddle's Blood pumped with energy, his mind afloat with the bliss of rage and un-whetted bloodlust. The scent of cooking flesh had set his senses on a high unlike any he had ever achieved as an experimenting youth, and his mouth all but watered when his gaze fell upon the unconscious form of Harry potter, slumped in the chair. He would be waking any moment. But his bleeder would not last much longer if he did not allow a brief moment of relief, and he wanted his new Lover to witness his own future. He wanted to watch the fear in those lovely eyes as he plucked them from his skull, to feel his agony, both physical, and emotional. It would be so…satisfying. The mind shattering ecstasy of justice, there was no sensation that could possibly compare. Just thinking of it made him hot. Tom let out a slow steady groan and palmed his cock as he sat down at the bedside table. The whimpering of the bleeder on the bed only fed his erection and the sight of Harry made his cock leak in excess. His little lover looked so recious with slivers of moonlight shining on his skin through the window blinds, with his hair draped like feathery curtains over his face. Such sharp contrast in light gave him a mysterious ambiance. He looked like a captured soldier, save the defiant glare. But Tom was sure he would indeed see one before the night was out.

Ohhh… he just couldn't resist. He was just so helpless and …tied up. Tom chuckle to himself darkly and strode over, slipping his cock from his pants and gave it a few light strokes. Harry looked so innocent when asleep, he observed upon lifting his head by that mane of hair. So untouched by sin, it made him sick. He sneered. That was so untrue. This man was just as guilty as the rest. No sin was greater than the next in his eyes, more morally horrendous, perhaps, but no greater. Harry was marked by the crime of bitchery in his book. He couldn't stand to see such an innocent face that hid the true perversion behind it. He stroked those lips gently, those plump, deceivingly innocent lips, coaxing them open before sliding the head of his dick over his pink tongue and shuddered with a violent growl. Even when that tongue, almost as if it knew what was happening, slid over the head, gently lapping at the throbbing vein further down the length of his dick, he looked flawless of soul. Even a cock in his mouth, the corruption of that image, couldn't wipe away that softness.

Tom snarled and began to thrust forcefully into that welcoming, warm throat that supplied the most delicious of whimpers. It drove him to the edge much faster than anticipated and he expelled his seed all over that pretty face, before he watched Harry rasp out an illegible name and come all over himself ; the little shit had the gall to retain that childlike innocence. Tom hissed, releasing Harry's scalp, watched his head drop into its previous position and lunged at the sobbing bleeder slamming it's head back against the bed with all the force he could muster.

"Stop that sniveling…" His voice was heavy and deep with rage, but controlled as he always tried to be. The crunch of his skull had helped him calm down. He had a lover to break. He needed to stay focused if he was to keep a level head before the right moment. He gazed back at harry and tied a strip of black cloth between his teeth, over his tongue and was overtaken with momentary desire. He licked those lips and cheeks clean with careful precision reveling in the taste of harry and himself mixed on his tongue. It was rare he gave into gentile pleasures like this; rare to even desire it in the first place. But he allowed himself to slide the gag out again and replace it with his lecherous tongue, and when he let the emotion swell through him, his arms almost unconsciously slid around Harry's neck. Herry was unresponsive, but it was still there, the sweet warmth in his loins, soft and pleasing, and not at all painful. His bare chest was smeared with harrys come as he held himself flush against his unconscious form. It was so familiar a feeling to - Toms moans melded into a light sob, and tears ran down his eyes as the memories flooded back. He yelped, pulled away and fell to his knees clutching the sides of his head as his temples throbbed with unbearable force, as they always did when those beautiful moments came back. He hated how the only beauty in his life caused him pain...but that was easily remedied. Toms eyes turned wild and in a movement of sheer instinct he clutched the metal frame of the bed in one hand, turning on the electrical current. Instantaneously, the cries of the bleeder filled his ears like so many heavenly hosts and swirled within his gut, fusing with the pain that wracked his now burning hand and shot through his spine.

The he let go. Slumping to the floor, his eyes spread wide and once more, sharp as daggers as a manic grin split his face. That had hurt so…_good_.

He lay there for several minutes, catching his breath slowly, and allowing himself to gain back his focus. He stood up as gracefully as he could and placed the gag back in harrys mouth with a sort of detachment, brushing the now sweat dampened hair back out of his eyes. Harry certainly was special…dangerously so. He would need to keep himself in check far more strictly than he had with anyone else. He could not let himself give in to the Addiction again. His purpose was to exact justice through physical pain. Not punish and pleasure himself with it.

* * *

The first thing Harry's mind could recognize was the stickiness. It covered his stomach, and seemed to be lightly spattered over his legs. He remembered his dream. It had been fucking amazing. Tom had lay above him touching, stroking, caressing his length while he loudly begged for release around the cock in his own mouth. The taste of pre gliding down his throat, the feel of breath against his thigh had sent his groggy mind reeling. He abruptly noticed that during the dream, he hadn't even cared, nor realized whom was giving him such pleasure. He hadn't given a rats ass who's tongue had glided over his thighs to clean him after his release. All he knew was bliss.

The second thing was that he was no longer blindfolded. His eyes were closed, yes, but he could open them if he wanted too. But he was still groggy from sleep. His tongue was pressed down…a gag. Why was this all coming at such ease to him. He could hardly remember the last time he could think clearly, or feel something other than that slow, misty high that blocked all sense of awareness. He could actually make out the screaming in the background. God it seemed so close. He wondered if-

Screaming? Harrys eyes snapped open and he lifted his head, groaning in a frustrated manner as his arms creaked behind the chair he was tied to. Slowly the room came into focus, and a thrashing figure became more and more clear as it shrieked and writhed against the wire coils of a bed frame. Harry trembled, the gag feeling that much, more dry on his tongue as the poor man on the bed frame slumped, shaking and sobbing, fresh burns smoking over the span of his back and shoulders.

"Ah, Harry." Green eyes darted about, searching for the familiar drawl as a sculpted torso, silhouetted against the dim moonlight in the window, came into view as it walked around from behind the shuddering prisoner. His brows rose as he sucked in a shaky breath, and a calm smirk spread over the lips of Tomas Marvolo Riddle. "So kind of you to join us. I believe you may know Mr. Scrimjour here." He lifted a nonchalant hand motioning to the half dead man hanging by his wrist on the metal frame, which, harry immediately noticed, was clamped with starter cables at the four corners. "He has such a lovely voice, don't you think?" Harrys eyes narrowed furiously. Tom. Tom? This whole time his own boss had been the perp. No wonder they had gotten next to nowhere on the case.

"Yusimfuuphh." Harry murmured through the cloth stretched through his teeth. Toms eyes glittered with un-voiced laughter.

"Hm…" He seemed to pause and think about it for a moment. "Sick fuck…I like that." He practically sauntered over to where harry sat and stroked his cheek affectionately. "I suppose I am. But aren't we all? Rufus here has quite a disease himself. Would you like to see?" Harry wrenched his head away and growled, only to toms delight as he fetched a stack of photos from his desk before returning and squatting in front of him. "I would say he's in need of new sexual prospects, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry watched as Tom held each photo before him, letting him get a close look at several images of the Governor in explicit situations of what was unmistakably child pornography. The girls in the photos couldn't have been much older than five or six. He didn't even bother to hide his horror when he snapped his gaze to the now unconscious man, then back to tom, whose smile was bordering on unhinged.

"This is actually quite mild compared to the others, Harry." Tom stood again and ruffled his hair. "Havent you ever noticed how when my lovers' houses were searched for evidence, they always found evidence for some sort of crime or perversion?" He waited, and watched as realization sparked in the mans face. "Mmmhm. I believe you have something under your belt as well." Harry squirmed in panic, having a good idea of what he was about to be shown. Tom only chuckled and fished into his pocket, pulling out a folded manila envelope and his heart lurched at the words "Sirius Black" written in a familiar scrawl. The messages he had spent over a month deciphering matched it perfectly. Harry struggled against the cuffs on his wrists, the wooden chair rocking with the force of his movements as he whimpered, head shaking wildly as his hair was seized and he was forced to stare directly into the eyes of his dead godfather. His master…his lover…his meaning. Tears sprung to his eyes, which he couldn't hold in place. They wandered over the entirety of the picture, the blood spattered floor, the torso, which had been torn open savagely, entrails and innards strewn over the corpse and the floor around it. "Yes…look closely harry. This is your skeleton in the closet. Your registered godfather, your Uncle." Harrys cheek was pinched. "You little incestuous shit…" Toms voice was sickeningly sweet as he spoke, and it just drove the dagger further into Harrys chest, making it harder to breathe. "But the best part? You never knew who did this…you could never find him, could you?" The photo was tucked away and harry roared at him, rage consuming him as he lurched forward, only to hiss in pain as the ropes around his arms burned his already bleeding skin.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Tom cackled. "Feisty aren't you? That's good" He patted Harry's head and lifted something else for him to see. "But don't you want to see who did this to your beloved Sirius?" His tone had shifted. Sacrcastic and malicious. "Take a gander harry. You'll love this one." Harrys eyes shut tight as something was shoved into his face. A slap resounded through the room and his head was forced to the side, his cheek stinging terribly. "I SAID LOOK AT IT YOU LITTLE FUCK!" Harry yelped when his face was backhanded again and he forced himself to look, only to slowly slip into shock as he took it all in.

In front of his eyes, was a single strip of colorful skin, tattooed with numerous, familiar pagan symbols held by an insane Tom Riddle, who wiggled it tauntingly. His enraptured grin and black, red tinted orbs; the man he had trusted with so many secrets, the face of the murderer, the sick cannibal who'd attacked and slaughtered …and eaten his master. Tom…

Tom …

Tom Riddle.

"So you _do_ recognize this." Tom gloated absently, uncaring when Scrimjour let out a short groan of pain, having re-entered consciousness. Harrys entire form shook with resurfaced grief and rage. "Well harry?" Tom purred, only inches from his lips. But so overwhelming was the emotion that ran through him, that the brunette could do nothing but stare, glaring and still save for a single tear that made its way lazily down his cheek. He couldn't …he just couldn't, anything. He just shut down. Tom's grin faltered and he tossed the photos aside with a growl. This was not the reaction he expected, nor wanted. Even as he stood, sneering down at his captured colleague, Harry simply stared, seemingly emotionless, his torment only apparent by the ice in his gaze. "Hmph…" Tom was a patient enough man. Harry was a unique soul, as his crimes were of a less evil, selfish nature. He should have predicted a stronger spirit. Only the evil were so hypocritical enough to plead for mercy, or wallow in self pity. Harry was one to hold in his pain, or simply deal with it. But he was sure he knew how to break him. After all, Harry Potter would be his paramount achievement. "I will be sure to take my time with you." The genial whisper seemed ignored, but Tom smiled to himself when there was a small twitch to Potter's jaw. "But this fellow's time is up I think. Be a love and watch as we send him off." Almost mechanically, Harry lifted his gaze to the marred politician, cold but not quite focused. He watched without concern at first when tom began sending wave after wave of electricity through the bedding. Scrimjour's screams returned with a vengeance, his body arching and twisting as his agony cut through the room like razorblades. He never turned away, but rather watched more intently, forcefully pushing the knowledge of Sirius' murderer away with the sight before him; the scent of burning flesh, the echo of his own heartbeat in his ears, the feel of blood flowing downward through his body as his eyes no longer saw the pedophile, but himself. His arousal grew and all cognitive ability was wiped from his mind. Tom held his gaze on Potter's countenance as he upped the voltage level, until he could feel a buzz in the air. The howl that followed seem to raise in pitch and volume as Scrimjour's body exploded into violent spasms and arched so sharply that the snapping of his spine rang out like a gunshot before he collapsed. Dead. But he had watched none of it.

The moment Tom had returned to his other task, the life had sparked back into Harry's eyes, but more brightly than he had ever seen it before. And that life spread throughout his entire body. The scent of arousal overcame even the stench of human barbecue. It was as if he wanted to get closer to the goings on, the way he leaned forward in his chair, breath giving way to heavy panting. Tom had watched those eyes reach a level of mania that matched, if not surpassed his own, turning wild and feral and hungry. Harry had rather nice teeth; even and white, the back of Toms mind pointed out, when those lips spread and a tongue darted out to wet them. But when he had raised the level of electricity, half to finish the man, and half to discern the reaction harry would give, and Scrimjours spine snapped, Harrys eyes drooped into an unmistakably aroused state (if the mans, now, pulsating erection was not enough to go by), which gave his somewhat demented grin a strangely unhinged, sexual quality. Tom noticed the distinct lack of a gag in his mouth, and saw it lying on the floor beside him. Harry had actually bitten through it with those disgustingly perfect teeth. Without him even noticing? His surprise was only magnified when harry muttered almost too low to hear.

"Idiot." Tom snarled and fisted Harrys hair, meaning to …do something…but one good look at the man he had restrained, and all his anger dissipated back into confusion.

"What's the matter Tom?" Harrys toes curled into the carpet and he began to giggle. "Surprised that it excites me?" He met the gaze of a speechless Tom no longer distracted by the slight creaking of the metal frame before the bleeder had ceased its post mortem twitching, head bent slightly askew as his tongue wet those lips, green, half mast eyes, darkened to a deep pine, pleading for his new playmate to continue the entertainment.

"What kind of sadist backs off when he finds that his victim enjoys the pain he inflicts?" He taunted, looking for a reaction, still almost completely lost in the haze that kept him from recalling why he was here at all. A muscle twitched in Toms jaw line and Harry found himself being tossed with no small amount of force to the floor, by way of his hair, and the chair crashed to pieces under him on impact, and one of the legs sliced his right hip, sending a beautiful shiver through him. Yes, this was what he needed, what he wanted. Dominants were so easily manipulated. The never suspected, their ego's never allowed that.

"I." Harry panted falling easily back into the familiar role of terrified victim, his favorite game and trembled in a terrified manor, allowing a trace amount of fear to stain his expression. "Am. Not. A. _Sadist!"_ Tom all but shouted that last word as he walked step by step, with slow precision after harry as the boy struggled to worm his way towards the nearest door, and as careless as you please, caressed the table top, parallel to him, until his fingers brushed the handle of one of the many blades in the room, and wrapped around it. For a moment, true worry weighed down on Harry, wondering if he had carried it too far. The conflict of fear and growing excitement was so short that none could have seen it play out on his face. The whimper that escaped his throat when it was savagely gripped and used as leverage to lift him from the ground was heated enough. But when he was slammed into the wall with his feet dangling several inches off of the floor, Harry suddenly wished he had kept his mouth shut. He wasn't a slave here. Tom wasn't a dominant. They were victim and murderer. All he was doing was provoking someone who had every ability to dish out pain to a level not even harry could take pleasure from. His mind and body were in a standoff. As legitimately terrifying as it was to feel the serrated edge of a steak knife press into his cheek as Tom drew it down, the blood that beaded and flowed down his neck had his hips bucking forward and his legs itching to spread open and wrap around the waist of this deranged, psychotic, but beautiful man.

"Do you have any idea what I could do to you harry?" Oh gods! He was pretty damned sure he did! "A sadist could not hold a candle to the redemption…the justice I provide the sinners of this world." Harry struggled to breathe through the hand around his throat, unable to get any relief for the burning that was beginning in his lungs. He couldn't scream when that blade continued its path over his jaw line and pulled out enough just to cut through the first layer of skin, not even enough to bleed as it followed the form of his jugular to perfection. His legs kicked, scraped back against the wall for leverage, but they only slipped on the smooth stucco. "You are nothing but a cesspit in this world…" Toms voice flowed into Harrys ears like the sin he spoke of, sending shivers down his spine, distracting him when he had to think straight. The blade cut much deeper now, "A hole for the sick fucks of this world to deposit their seed." And sliced clean through his nipple and harry lost the last of his air in the strangled cry that forced past those crushing fingers, his balls tightened and the pulsating of his dick became unbearable.

"P-" his voice was nonexistent, all of his attempts to beg, lost in the pitiful squeak of air catching in his throat. "ih-gngh!" He could feel the world beginning to spin and darken around him, and a tear of frustration, pain and fear inched down his cheek, mixing with the bloody trail Tom had left behind. But the man was too focused on his task…harry should have realized. Tom would not allow harry to get pleasure from this…never. Tom would kill him first…he was such a fool…he had overestimated Tom's sympathy, his sanity. Tom was right…he wasn't a sadist. He was simply a kille-

"Guaaahhhhhhuu!" Harry felt the air practically slam into his lungs when his throat was suddenly released. His mind hadn't even had time to register the lack of constriction before the muscles of his diaphragm spasmed from the sudden ability to actually _move_. A knee ground between his legs, holding him up and reacquainting Harry with an awareness to his own maddening erection and without a moments waste, he ground and gyrated his hips like a dog in heat, screaming at the top of his lungs as his entire body was drawn tighter and tighter like the string of a bow, forcing him to arch into Tom as he unexpectedly sank his teeth into Harrys collarbone, penetrating so deeply that he could feel his own muscles moving around those glorious teeth. Toms chest was coated in the blood he had drawn from Harrys and hissed as his own arousal grew nearly painful. His mind had gone blank the moment he had felt Harrys cock twitch against him. The reaction had been instantaneous, and his drive to kill had suddenly turned into an irresistible_ need_ to taste that flesh in his hands. And just like that, he came to. He realized exactly what he was doing and felt a rage of self disgust fill his very core until it exploded to the surface. He all but roared as he gripped Harrys hair in his fist and flipped them around, sending them crashing to the floor. Harry was crushed beneath toms body, his legs splayed open and head and upper torso pulled up painfully, and his arms were winged at the elbows behind his back by the handcuffed and angle of elevation. He was overcome with confusion. Would tom kill him? Would he fuck him? Would he kill him then fuck him? Or god forbid, the other way around? He had no idea what tom wanted, and it frightened him to realize that the man probably had no idea either. And rather than in delight, it was with pure and unadulterated terror that he trembled when Toms voice, low and husky like the devil himself, left hot breath on his ear.

"I could be slow, harry…or I could be quick…" his breathing was labored and strained, and harry was unsure if the cock pressed against his ass was just his imagination…subconscious wishful thinking. He knew he was touched in the head. He had to be, to find a glimmer of excitement in his own nerve wracking fear."I can go easy…or hard…" Oh…hard…please god _hard_! "Make no mistake Harry …I intend to kill you…" Harry whimpered at this, not able to fool himself into thinking that was a bluff. He knew he would be murdered…and brutally. So why did that make his cock feel like it was ready to explode? "But until I rid myself of the maddening distraction you unceasingly provide…" harry almost chuckled despite everything when his captor trailed off, seemingly caught in his own fantasy…or maniacal plans of how best to end his life. Someone had said to him before, almost verbatim, though it was in a much different scenario. His body twitched when a hand snaked around his hips and harry was unable to restrain a rather loud and disgustingly desperate mewl when a single finger drew a trail from his perineum, over his lifting ball sack, and up the length of his dick.

"More…" Harry gasped, his ability to think straight somewhat recovered. Just like most things in his life, he got over everything but pain, rather quickly. Now…he just wanted tom to speak…just speak and give him the small carnal and vocal pleasure of hearing that demented growl upon his ear again "What will you do to me Tom…?" His eyes rolled back a bit, and in his peripheral vision, he could see that same grin…the one he had seen when tom first appeared from behind that living corpse on the bed…the eerily and unnaturally bright glow of a crescent moon on his bloodstained skin. In that moment, he realized and accepted his imminent death and instantly came to count on …hope…that Tom would force him to beg for it, plead for death. And unlike before, he now knew that was_ precisely_ what he wanted.

* * *

I am…so…evil…

I did feel rather pissed off today so I decided to change up the finished bit and make the last chapter have almost ALL the smut. So you have to wait…even…longer….

If you want someone to blame, call up my councilor. That woman is a cruel task master. I discovered that she reads my stories and figured out that it was me, and proceeded to demand I use my writing as therapy. But that unhinged edge in her voice told me everything.

Post by the deadline or die (or possible castration, but I would consider that even worse). Which I realized was probably what had been going on in the minds of many of you. So I suppose you can thank her as well, for my keeping of the deadline for once in my life.

And you know the best part. You cannot do anything about it, except beg, or flame but they both just make me horny. So all you'd be doing is making me want to lengthen the smutty chapter even more, effectively increasing the wait time.

Heh heh.

But seriously.

_Beg._ *dark grin*

If you do, I'll give you a PM with a personalized message of exactly what I would do to you if I had you in my bedroom…and you_ know_ you want it. (yes, ladies…even you, though it will possibly melt my brain for all eternity (not realy))


	4. With Love and Bukkake

i deeply apologize for such a long wait. i did say id written the whole thing. and i had, but it just wasn't ..enough. like when you make super awesome soup that is less than spectacular only because you can taste the lack of something.

So i decided to wait and figure out what the missing ingredient was.

Tobasco is almost always the needed kick to my dish. (i'm creole, so sue me)

:)

so i had all sorts of torturous kink and evilness and a disastrously unpredictable ending...but one thing was missing. tobasco.

I should have the final chapter up within only a few days. at the , LONGEST a week (eagle scouts honor). i have actually split my thumb nail in half from the using too much pressure while turbo texting. yes, my ubersmut sluts. my computer is broken, so i am TEXTING this out for you with PROPER grammar.

...yeah you BETTER be fapping with joy. )

oh and by the way JUST BECAUSE I LIKE TO COOK DOES NOT MAKE ME BETTY CROCKER!

T.T

dad called me that on Thxgvng. fucker...

So anywhore, the final update is nigh. Be on the lookout

with love and bukkake,

Albinof0x


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